


Just That

by ani_bester



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Insanity, Mind Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ani_bester/pseuds/ani_bester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jefferson has been trapped in his house, making hats and trying to get back to Grace for the last 18 years without anything significant changing. Then Regina shows up with a surprise and later a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just That

Jefferson leaned forward, holding a delicate porcelain sugar bowl carefully in both hands. He sat the it next to the large tea pot had surveyed the tea set, making sure everything was as Grace had always laid them out. When he'd first found himself in this house, he'd found no less than seven separate tea sets in various locations through the mansion. Of all of them, this was the one he used most often. This set resembled one that Grace had admired as they'd passed through the market place one fall. Jefferson could still see her pressed up against the old cart, eyes wide with childish wonder as she admired the intricate patterns of green and blue, almost floral in their design, which had been painted onto the white surface by unknown, but skilled, hands. His heart had ached when he saw disappointment tinge her eyes as someone else bought the set. He'd had no chance of affording it then, but now here it was, in the house, mocking him like so many other items. 

Sitting on the very edge of a forest green couch, he reached out and repositioned one of the sugar cubes. He'd placed each one into the bowl with meticulous care, but his hand had shook while carrying the bowl to the table and some of the cubes needed to be put back into place. That done, he placed one tea cup and saucer in front of him , than another across the coffee table in front of the empty chair. The chair was smaller than the rest of his furniture; the perfect size for a young girl who would never sit in it. He poured tea into both cups than set the pot back onto the table. With nothing left to do, Jefferson sat and stared at the tea set as though the strength of his desire would materialize his daughter in the chair across from him. With a deep sigh, Jefferson leaned back against the couch. After a few moments, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, than reached for the scissors and unfinished hat on the couch beside him and set to work.

He let the tea grow cold.

"It's sweet that you set out tea for me, Jefferson, but I don't think I'll be able to stay that long."

Jefferson's back stiffened at the unexpected voice from just behind him. He stopped working on the hat, but he didn't turn around.

"Regina," he said, the flood of emotion that washed through him gave a tremor to his voice. "You're not a Queen here. Just a mayor. And mayors should still knock."

He didn't expect an answer and Regina meet his expectations. He heard the click of her high heels as she moved across the hard wood floor. Grace would have loved the floor, loved sliding across it in socks, or perhaps they could have set up some make shift pins for a game of nine pins.

"Jefferson?"

"You're still here?" Jefferson asked, reaching for the tea pot and pouring some into his already full cup. He took no notice as the brown liquid rose over the lip of his cup and pooled over the saucer and onto the table.

"I need your help, Jefferson."

Reaching across the table, Jefferson picked up a butter knife. He'd forgotten to put out any biscuits or cakes to go with the tea. With a frown, he pushed himself up from the couch and turned to go toward the kitchen. Regina, however had moved directly in front of him.

Had she been alone, Jefferson would have pushed past her, ignoring her as though she were nothing more than a out of place chair. She'd done this to him once before, shown up in his house for reasons known only to her, but she hadn't stayed long after he'd refused to play her game. He hadn't expected her to make a second attempt; however, this time, she hadn't come alone.

In her arms she held an infant. He wore a one piece outfit of the same light blue as a bird's egg, and he was wrapped in a white blanket with a bright smiling sun embroidered on it. The sight of Regina holding an infant brought Jefferson up short and drew a gasp from him.

"Whose-" he began, unable to ignore her.

"Mine of course," she said. "Do you think I'd steal him?

Jefferson glared and kept his thoughts to himself. "Congratulations," he muttered and moved to walk past her.

"I said I needed your help."

"And I need to get cakes for the tea," he answered.

Regina smiled and did not move out of his way. "I adopted him recently, and it seems I'm not as good at certain parental duties as I'd hoped. I thought perhaps you could offer advice."

Swallowing hard, Jefferson looked at the baby. He fussed in Regina's arms and the smell from him made it evident what the source of his discomfort was. Before he thought about it, Jefferson found himself taking the boy from Regina.

Regina handed him the diaper bag she'd had over her shoulder. With a sigh, Jefferson went to his desk and pushed an unfinished hat out of the way. He laid the little boy down and began to unsnap his outift.

As he changed the baby, he made no effort to explain anything to Regina, or even slow any part of the process down. And Regina neither asked any questions, nor came any closer to invistigate.

When he'd secured the last end, having more trouble with the plastic diapers of this world than he'd had with Grace's simple cloth ones, he picked the baby up and moved toward Regina.

"Is there anything else?" He whispered the words like a condemnation rather than a question as he continued to hold the baby close. 

"None that I can think of. Thank you for your help," Regina answered with a sweet smile.

He held the little boy against his chest for a few more seconds, relishing the contact with another person as well as the feeling of holding a child in his arms, a feeling he'd begun to forget. For one moment, he almost felt some small spark of happiness deep in his chest.

The rush of euphoria, however, faded like a dream. The boy squirmed more than Grace had, and he smelled too clean, too much like baby powder. Grace had smelled like flowers and earth, and a little of the smoke from the fire he'd kept going in their small hut. The happy spark turned to ash and Jefferson recoiled from the little boy as though the baby had turned into a pig. Turning his head away, he held the baby out to Regina.

Regina took the boy back and smoothed out his small blue outfit and wiped a bit of drool from below his lip. Jefferson remembered fussing over Grace like that, but there was something in how Regina looked at her son- with the cold calculation of a jeweler polishing a diamond- that made Jefferson's skin crawl.

"She doesn't deserve a child." The thought shrieked through Jefferson's mind almost pushing him into motion. He moved his fingers, braced himself to lunge, but then clasped his hands behind his back.

It wasn't the boy he wanted. 

He moved toward Regina, the ashes of happiness roaring into flames of anger. "I helped you. You owe me," he snapped.

The only response Jefferson got was a raised eyebrow.

"If Grace and I can't go home, let me out of this house. Let me see her at least, please Regina. Just that. Just that one little thing."

Regina moved closer, until the reek of her perfume made Jefferson turns his head to the side. He couldn't see Regina anymore, but somehow, he knew her lips were turned up into a monster's grin. "Why Jefferson, what on earth have I to do with you staying in your home?"

He grabbed her by her free wrist, his grip like a vice. "You know what you did," he roared, taking himself by surprise. Regina though, didn't even start.

The shout, however, cause the baby ball his hands into tiny fists and begin to cry.

As she soothed her child, Regina regarded Jefferson like a crocodile might regard pray. "It sounds like you may be working up to one of your breaks, Jefferson." Mock concern dripped like rancid honey from her voice. "If you're going to have a fit, I should leave. We wouldn’t want this little one to be in danger, would we?"

Jefferson let go of her wrist, but didn't step away. "I know you know, Regina," he hissed.

She didn't answer, she only smiled and walked to his door without retreating. When she reached his front door, she put her hand on the doorknob, and then turned back to him.

"Jefferson, maybe I can arrange to have someone come over, a doctor you can speak with about this fear of the out doors."

He ran at her then, his face monstrous with rage. Regina moved with quick measured steps out the door and just past the doorway. Jefferson raced toward her, but when he reached the door he stopped as though something had grabbed him from behind. He braced himself against the door jamb and glared at Regina, his chest heaving as hate made him short of breath.

"It was nice to see you again, Jefferson," Regina said as she turned away from him and began to walk toward her car. Then she stopped.

"Oh." Jefferson heard the fake exclamation of surprise over his own ragged breathing.

Regina turned to him, her countenance lit with the glee of a small child pulling wings from a butterfly. "I never told you my son's name," she said bringing her free hand to her cheek with the flourish of a stage actress.

Jefferson didn't answer. He wanted to scream at her to go away, scream he didn't care what she called the brat, but fury held him in such a tight grip he couldn't find the breath to speak.

"His name is Henry," Regina's red lips pulled into a poisonous grin. "After my father. You know how much I loved my father, don't you Jefferson."

Jefferson's cheek twitched as he stood at his own doorway and watched Regina turn again and walk to her car. He pressed up against the invincible force holding him captive. He could hear someone screaming as she drove away, but didn't realize it had been him until he took a step back into the suffocation of his gilded cage.

 

It had been twelve finished hats since Regina had brought Henry over to taunt him, and in his drive to create magic in this magicless world, Jefferson had all but forgotten the incident.

"Careful, careful" he murmured to himself as he put the finishing touched on the hat. "A mis-made hat has no chance."

Midway through the delicate stitching, a sound rang though his home. Jefferson paused and stared upward, listening to the chimes echoing through the large empty house. Confusion fogged his mind until an old memory forced it's way up and provided a name for the sound.

The door bell.

Jefferson set the hat on the table and walked to the door with slow, hesitant steps. When he reached his front door, he put his hand on the doorknob, gripping it as though trying to crush it. He took three deep breaths, and then flung the door open, ready to strike should Regina be standing there. He held his breath for the seconds it took his mind to process that no one stood on the other side. Then he released the air he'd held captive in a long gasping gush.

He began to shut the door again, irritation at the time this had taken away from his hat putting a scowl on his face. Just before he shut the door though, he took one last look at the outside world and this time noticed that at his feet lay a rectangular box, about a foot and half by five feet. Expecting to be thwarted by the curse, he reached out to pick the box up. To his surprise, for the first time since he'd woken in this large house, any part of him passed past the doorway. He snatched the box up before the spell could change its mind and rushed to the living room to grab a pair of scissors.

The sharp double blades made short work of the packaging tape. In seconds, Jefferson opened the two flaps and had worked his way through the careful packing job.

A few moments later, his efforts revealed a golden telescope. Set just on top of it's cylindrical body was a note. It was in a simple white envelope with his name written in curly letters across the top.

He opened it and tugged the letter out. It was small, just a single note folded in half.

_So you can see your daughter. Just that._

Jefferson stared at the note then let go and watched it flutter to the ground. He looked again at the telescope, then over at the unfinished hat on the table. He set the box aside, went to the table, picked up the hat, and went back to work.

 

Still swearing over the latest failure, Jefferson came from the supply room and laid his material out on the table. He'd just finished threading a needle when he looked at the telescope again. He remembered the note and an odd desperation crawled through him. If it were true-

Hands trembling, he sat the thread and needle down and went over to the telescope.

In far less time than it took to make a hat, Jefferson held the assembled telescope. Now he sat looking at it and sigh.

"Why did you bother, Jefferson," he asked himself. "To many houses to many trees. It would have been better to try again at the hat. Wasted your time." He shook his head. Then he looked at the telescope again and shrugged. "Still though, you did put it together."

Promising himself he'd look only to prove it useless, he set up the telescope at the nearest window and put his eye to the eye piece. When Grace's smiling face cam into view, he shouted her name. He looked away, hand to his chest as the as the joy at seeing her warred with the fury at not being able to go to her and made him feel as though his heart might burst.

He moved away shook his head and looked again, sure what he'd seen had been caused by desperation and nothing else. But when he looked again, he could still see Grace. She smiled up at another woman as she set plates down around the table. After she finished putting all the plates out, a man handed her some forks and spoons. Jefferson balled his hands into fists, digging his nails into the flesh of his palms until blood oozed from beneath his fingers. He watched Grace skip around the table as she put the silverware down until tears obscured his vision of her.

He pulled away and wiped at his face, clearing his eyes so he could watch her eat, watch her clear the table, watch her get ready for bed.

And then watch over her as she slept, his hands aching to be the ones that had tucked her snug into her bed.

For the first time since being separated from his daughter, Jefferson went a whole night without working on a single hat.


End file.
